Rising Flames
by Syllanna
Summary: Glorfindel has always had a touch of the foresight. Most of the time, he doesn't even notice it as he is consumed by his duties as Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. This time, though, he dreams of fire and shadows. Will his nightmares come true, or can he stop fate from taking away his friends? Where can he run when the flames begin to rise? Rated M for future content.


_**Rising Flames**_

_**Disclaimer:**_ None of Tolkien's works (including characters/settings) belong to me. Please note that this story is meant for a mature audience and may have mature themes (including profanity, violence and possible nudity). Comments are appreciated.

**Chapter One: Spring Approaches **

_All around him, the air was burning with a heat that singed his skin. Gold filled his vision, broken only by the red hot flames that licked at the strands of his hair. His stomach dropped, the sensation of falling tugging at it in an unpleasant manner. Falling? He turned, his limbs motionless in the air, and his vision cleared only to be filled with the dark shadow of despair. The creature below him was made of flame and shadow, it's eyes filled with nothing but hatred. He cried out, his voice hoarse and useless as the air streamed past him. The mountainside rose up and he saw the creature break on the rocks before him. Unconsciously, he thrust out his arms to prevent himself from being hurt, but it was a futile gesture. His arms splintered as his body slammed into the chasm, turning the stone a dark red with his glistening blood._

He woke screaming incoherently, clutching his intact arms to his body. The pounding of feet on the stone didn't even register to him until he had hands on him and a worried voice flowing over him. He looked up, vision obscured by the tears streaming down his face. It took a minute for the voice to penetrate the fear in his mind. "Glorfindel! What is it? What's wrong?" The deep bass managed to soothe his shaking form enough for him to stutter a response.

"I am sorry, _mellon-nin._ I did not mean to wake you."

The voice, belonging to his one and only best friend in all the realms, sounded slightly less freaked out when he responded. "Well, you just about woke everyone in the house."

The bed dipped under the weight of the male elf as he joined his golden haired friend. Glorfindel rested his sky blue eyes on the dark haired elf beside him. He smiled weakly. "See? I do not need a partner in my bed to get the attention of the whole house." He teased. Eyes as dark as sapphires rolled towards the ceiling.

"You are just jealous of the love that the _ellyth_ show for me." Was the, not entirely untrue, return.

He snorted lightly. "Please, Ecthelion. I get plenty of love myself." His pride would allow no less of a reply.

Before the argument could erase the terror of the dream, Ecthelion's eyes softened. "You have not had a nightmare like that since the earliest of our days on the shores of Arda." His pale hand moved Glorfindel's golden hair out of his face. "Tell me, what is it that you dreamed?"

A flash of fear returned in the elf's blue eyes as he recalled the terrible dream in vivid detail. He swallowed hard to moisten a suddenly dry throat. "I...I am not sure. It was more an impression of something...not good."

Ecthelion's brows drew closer as they always did when he was concerned. It happened more and more often of late. "Well...maybe it is best not to think of that just now, my friend."

His warm hand soothed Glorfindel by rubbing his back gently. "You should be getting more sleep. The ceremony is tomorrow and you, oh captain of the guard, need to look your best."

Glorfindel gave a small, but genuine smile. "I always look the best. Even when I am at my worst, I could make anyone sigh for me." His friend laughed.

"That's the Glorfindel I know. Always making statements that he cannot back up. Now, lay down and sleep!" He gave the blonde a little shove to emphasize the words and then stayed for a few minutes to make sure the blonde actually stayed in bed.

As his eyes drifted closed again, Glorfindel frowned ever so slightly. There was something...important about the nightmare he'd just had. Yet the more he tried to recall it, the further it slipped from his mind. Frustrated, he lay until sleep dragged at him and he slipped back into dreams. 

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and cheery as the sun cast a pale glow on the city of Gondolin. Sparkling buildings made of white stone reflected the soft light, giving the city an almost ephemeral look. The curving arches and open spaces of elven architecture looked out of place in the hollowed out mountain; as though this small pocket of land belonged to another dimension altogether.

As Glorfindel looked out over the city he loved so dearly, he could not help but admire the work that had gone into it all over again. He remembered the noises of construction still; the pounding hammers, grating chisels and grunts of the craftsmen as they hollowed out the city from the stone around them.

It had been a labor of love, despite being an order from King Turgon. As each day had passed and the city grew into a home, Glorfindel had walked among the builders and spoken with them about their hopes for the future. They dreamed of a home that would stand against the darkness of Morgoth and give them peace of mind. Secretly, he thought a few of them regretted leaving the holy lands of the West.

Still, when all was said and done, they had a home they could be proud of. The sturdy walls were a testament to their strength. The graceful arches were the embodiment of their artistic souls. The walls...well, the walls were the only thing Glorfindel did not like about the city.

If one ignored the walls, one could imagine that the city was endless. It radiated outward from the king's house in a beautiful star shape. Each of the ten houses of Gondolin , excepting the king's house in the middle of the city, creating a towering point around which the other homes of the city gathered.

On days when there was a festival, the streets would fill with people and the smells of delicious food. Boisterous song would play out in the air until it seemed the mountain itself was singing.

He smiled to think of it, for today was a very special day indeed. Today, the mighty Lord Glorfindel had lived to be five hundred and fifty years of age. Ish.

His smile turned into a frown as he considered how the flow of time itself had been rewritten with the loss of the trees and the rising of the sun and moon. Truly a perplexing conversation to have with one's own self.

As he was just starting to get into a heated argument about whether he was really five hundred years old or one thousand years old, a voice called out to him. He blinked and looked down over the balcony until his eyes met the light green ones of his friend.

"Are you not in the wrong house?" He called out, a laugh in his voice. "One might think you were losing your eyesight Laiqualasse."

The archer gave him a face that no one would call mature or polite. "Shows what I get for coming to wish some old guy a happy conception day." He crossed his arms, somehow managing to look elegant as he huffed. It must have been the armor he was wearing. Upon his helm was a fan of white feathers that rose up to give the impression of delicate wings taking flight, and his armour was fashioned in white, dark blue, purple and black. Glorfindel knew that his quiver would display the arrowhead that was the emblem of the House of the Swallow and marveled again at how he had become friends with the _Thlim Duilin_.

Glorfindel laughed. "Come on up, archer. For you, I will make an exception and excuse your insolence." His sparkling blue eyes betrayed the seriousness of the words and soon Laiqualasse was beside him on the balcony.

The younger elf grinned at Glorfindel. "I got wall duty, so I will sadly not be in the midst of the party. Therefore, I came to wish you a happy day before all the ruckus begins."

Glorfindel smiled. "It is much appreciated, however tactlessly delivered. You really should work on your tone."

Laiqualasse rolled his eyes. Glorfindel knew he hated just about everything to do with the courts and displays of respect and affection that were not genuine.

"I will learn to speak with as honeyed a tongue as yours when I am given a reason to do so." Was the archer's tacit response.

"It would certainly help you to rise in the ranks. Is that not a reason to do so?" Glorfindel asked curiously.

Laiqualasse shook his head, his pale blonde hair shifting softly in the breeze. "I do not desire authority. I leave that to the ones who actually like to sit in those stuffy meetings with the king." He looked out over the city, his eyes filled with joy. "All I care about is making sure our city stays safe." He smiled at Glorfindel. "You worry too much, you know. About others. When and if I wish to rise through the ranks, you will be astounded at how swiftly I do so. I promise."

To that, Glorfindel had no witty response. The sincerity in Laiqualasse's voice was enough to convince him that it was the truth. So he shrugged, laying the debate to rest.

"Thank you for coming over." He said softly. "It means a lot to me, to have you stop by."

Laiqualasse lifted his right shoulder, embarrassed at the statement, but also pleased.

"I will keep that in mind the next time you chase me out of your ivory tower." He grinned wolfishly, making the lord laugh.

"Would that I could lure you to my house with promises of arrows and good food."

The archer smiled pleasantly. "Oh, if only you knew what a good arrow looked like."

Glorfindel laughed again, feeling his melancholy from the night before fade away completely as he looked out over the city once more. The sparkling lake surrounding the small island that Gondolin was built on greeted his eyes.

"Alas, time flows ever forward. But, it is a good day to be alive, mellon." Laiqualasse said with happiness. "Do not waste it by reveling too deeply in your own mind. There are _ellyth_ to be kissed and goblets of wine to be drank."

Glorfindel nodded and grasped the forearm of his friend in a gesture of goodbye. As the fair haired archer clattered down the steps of his house, the lord could not help but think that perhaps it was a bit too peaceful a day.

Like the calm before the storm. 

* * *

**Glossary:**

Ellyth : female elves (plural of elleth, singular).

Mellon-nin : My friend.

Thlim Duilin : Elf belonging to the House of the Swallow


End file.
